


Blood Moon Ball

by suhdude



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Ghost B.C.
Genre: Demon, Horny Demon Disease™, Other, Papa gets hornt to the EXTREME, Sex, Smut, Transformation, demon papa, gender ambigous reader, happy pride month i wanna fuck a demon, smut time, yall bone okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhdude/pseuds/suhdude
Summary: A Blood moon get together and a demon pope? What could possibly go wrong and/or sexy?





	1. Chapter 1

It was barely dusk. The stool beneath you kept you properly leveled to the vanity before you. It was pale white, three positioned mirrors held by carved wood. The only thing separating your view of yourself from the mirror was a thin robe and the unmentionables that lay beneath. The dressing robe was silken, your reflection clear, and the air still warm from the heat of the day. Soon you would need candles to see, but, for now, everything was bathed in a soft light from the large balcony doors. A soft breeze tickled at your neck as the breeze rolled in. The silver brush handle weighed your hand tastefully as you brought it up to your head, the pristine mirror guiding you along. 

You were a sight. You had had help achieving the look, bathed, scrubbed, fawned over all day to prepare for tonight. The moon was to be in all of its bloody glory, and the ballroom was to be filled. Most parties had been a bore but you had a creeping suspicion something would be different tonight.  
Your dreams never failed to tell you what lay ahead, lately however, you weren’t so sure what they meant. The memory of the misty graveyard, the cold pressing in, the tall black horse slowly drawing nearer seemed to flash before your eyes. You hoped it wasn’t a bad omen, every night it was the same, the horse getting closer and closer each time, last night the clouds of its breath practically hitting your face before you woke. 

The breeze relieved some of the perfumed smell of the room. It wasn’t an overwhelming scent to begin with but the smell of the forest tangled with it wonderfully as the wind gently pushed in. You let your eyes drift closed to just enjoy the moment. Dreamily, they fell back open. You let your head turn to the costume on the mannequin to your left. A smile tugged at the sides of your mouth. What a night this would be.

A knock came at the door, your slippered feet patted across the rug then the wood floor. 

“Who is it?” you called, ear pressed to the heavy mahogany. 

“The boogeyman,” you heard Papa III respond.

You opened the door and extended an arm to welcome him in. He took your hand and gently pressed a kiss to it.

“Isn’t it a little early to be all dressed Papa?” you asked as the man stepped further into the room. 

“Isn’t it very early to be so undressed?” he whispered, hand meeting your waist as he slipped behind you. 

“Papa, we shouldn’t” you managed as he began kissing your neck.

“Oh” he said, pulling away. “If you change your-“

You turned, lips pressing to his interrupted his words. “We shouldn’t but I’ll be damned if I don’t anyway.” You said before pulling him back in.

He tasted sweet against you, like powdered sugar. No doubt he had snuck into the kitchen before checking on you.

The silk of your robe slid against the silk and thread of his. His hair was soft between your fingers as you gently pulled at it. He had always been warm, but he felt as though he had spent the day in the sun. 

“Are you feeling alright? Feeling sick at all?” You ask, hesitating to pull away.

“Depraved could be argued,” he murmurs, his soft lips moving their attention back to your neck. 

“I think you’re running a fever, Papa, you’re hot as all hell! Do you feel alright?” 

“Not nearly as hot as you my dear, and I feel beyond alright but, in all honesty, I’d rather be feeling you.” His teeth grazed a pulse point as he spoke. A shiver ran through you, followed by a wave of heat.

You wanted to say more, but the words stood at the tip of your tongue, mouth agape, Papas lips pressing firm to your neck. You found your grip tightening its hold on his hair again as he kissed your fresh skin, the thorough bath having left you more sensitive. Every inch he moved seemed like a mile. 

Papa pulled at the belt that held your robe closed. The bow slipped out of its form leaving your robe unfastened, the only thing that kept it together was his body against yours, the slickness of the silk did leave some leeway to even that. New skin found its way out of the confines of the robe as his lips trailed down further. His leather gloves and the pressure of his kisses helped him as he guided you to your fainting chair. The velvet found itself pressed to the back of your legs as you took another step back. Then a seat. Papa knelt, not grabbing the cushion as he usually had. You let the robe roll off your shoulders as his mouth ventured down to your chest. The air of restlessness that he held grew thicker, his mouth moved eagerly, hungrily, down your chest. Where normally his patience was a strong held virtue, he seemed feverish. He hadn’t even bothered to remove your undergarments, instead opting to rub one of his hands over them. The other pulled the robe the rest of the way open. He stopped. Dead in his tracks he stopped. His eyes seared as he stared. His chest rumbled, a growl pulled itself out of him. 

Through all your escapades, you hadn’t seen him move the way he did then. He practically pounced, hand still pressed to your crotch, catching your lips in his as he lay you down. It happened so fast that it took a moment to be sure it had happened at all. His robes draped over you as he pressed closer. His leg found a place between yours, lending more friction to an already heated situation. You clung to him, an arm around his back, the other hand still firmly tangled in his hair. The way his fingers moved over you was obscene, kneading you, making your head swim, but the scene was made obscener when they snaked under them, thumb finding a path to circle. Gasps escaped you, Papa taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The shift from passionate to fully lustful was hard to determine but apparent as the digit pressing against your opening. 

“Papa, what has gotten into you?” you moaned, his lips moving from yours as he shifted, lips regaining momentum at your collarbone. 

“I don’t know, all I know is that I need you, desperately,” a kiss “madly,” another, further down “immediately,” a few more, reaching nearly all the way down your torso, “every inch of my body is screaming for you, starving, aching, dying. Please, may I taste you?” he pleaded, practically off the couch again, head hovering. 

“You may” you spoke, the last syllable hardly leaving your mouth when his mouth dipped down. Again, he hardly bothered with the garments, pulling them out of the way instead of removing them. The room was torrid, your chest heaved as you tried to cool down for but a second. His tongue usually moved in precise patterns, but now, it pressed hard against you, the stimulation you had been made to beg for before now thrust upon you. Your head felt like a top. He had never been this keen, not that you were complaining. It was hard to find a grounding point. He lapped at you like a flame, feverishly trying to taste more. With every moan that escaped you, a low growl seemed to escape him. His finger pressed in, the ease surprising you. Its curls brought you closer and closer to a boil. The edge grew dangerously close, his mouth pulled away, fingers continuing their work. 

“Tell me, do you want me?” he said, his breath heavy. His eyes bore into yours.

“Yes, Papa, I want you.”

He kept his fingers push and pull steady as he moved back upwards, robe pulled up. It didn’t take long to register that he hadn’t anything on under the robes. Papa wasted no time in taking his cock in the hand that held the robes out of the way and lining himself up. His eyes met yours again. The hand he had just been using to ready you now sat beside your head, propping himself up. His hips shifted, he sunk in. You could feel his arousal, hot against your own, both of your bodies fully ready for what was to come. 

The stretch around him was painless and delectable. He ground into you, rapturous moans leaving him. He was absolutely shameless, a sight to be beheld. His eyebrows pulled together. His forehand rippled. You watched as his mouth pulled up on one side, a fang growing before your eyes. His strokes sped up, as did the transformation. Two sets of horns sprouted from his skull, one set spiraling down in a gnarly manner, the other curving upwards. You heard a tearing noise beside you, his nails now claws, ripping into the velvet as he gripped it, knuckles turning white. A snarl, and you felt his mouth back on your throat. Looking back at him, you could see the movement of his hips, the desperation they held.

A knock came at the door, you froze, Papa seemed not to notice as he pulled you up, legs around him, to bounce on his lap. The growling that tore through him grew apparent, as did the fangs pressing against your throat. In his clutches, you couldn’t even turn to see the door. His claws started to dig into your ass, guiding each thrust, even knowing someone was just outside, you couldn’t stop the moans as they built momentum. 

A woman walked in, a makeup tray clattering to the floor as she let out a scream. Papa’s head snapped up from your neck. A horrifying look of anger pulled at his face, fangs barred. He stood up, hands cradling your ass, then one shifting to support your back, your arms snaked around his neck just to keep stable. He bolted to the balcony.


	2. Chapter 2

The soft translucent curtains brushed across your back as Papa passed through the arch of the balcony doors. Each monstrance step towards an escape, though, it seemed less of an escape and more of a sheer drop. You clung to him. The intricate thread work brushed against your nearly nude form, your body bouncing with each bound. 

You heard the woman who had screamed before yelling after Papa. 

You smelt the fresh air. 

You felt Papas shoulders roll, his knee against your ass as he stepped onto the balcony’s stone rail.

You couldn’t see, couldn’t bare to watch, you felt the wind as he pushed off.

A tearing sound, weightlessness, Papas fingers slipping back under the garments that remain.

Curiosity killing you, your eyes fluttered. Iridescent black wings shone in the light of the evening. They were like that of a bat, claws at the ends, leather stretched between bone. 

With each beat of the wings, Papa would curl his fingers. Fading behind you was the balcony, the woman clutching her chest as she watched the two of you disappear. 

Papa’s eyes surveyed the forest, looking at the sea of evergreens as if he had lost something. His grip on you remained tight. 

All at once, he swooped, practically dropping from the skies, as if an angel from heaven. You felt his hand withdraw from working you as your back met a warm rock. Looking around you found a grassy clearing, soft mosses padding the rocks, a small waterfall leading into a natural pool, the sound of the water whistling through practically a melody. 

Everything glowed in the fading light, the moon started to rear its head. 

The pope watched you intently, as if waiting for you to absorb where he brought you. When his eyes met yours, you could feel your breath hitch, his eyes looked to glow of their own volition. You blinked quickly. Cautiously, you moved your elbow, trying to prop yourself up to get closer, a rumble from his chest warned you against it. 

He lunged at your neck, the heat of the rock against your back paling in comparison to the fire of his mouth. One claw found the side of your throat, tracing along the indent, pressing just hard enough to make you shake, but not enough to bleed. Air was pulled from your lungs again as the claw traced down your chest, circling an erect nipple, and then dipping back below the belt. One digit slowly pressed in as his thumb began working as well. You let your head fall onto the pillow of moss. Your legs fell further open and you were sure you heard him moan. His free hand drug up your leg, talons gently scratching as they moved along. His pelvis pushed against his hand, the silken robes teasing your thighs as they fluttered in the breeze. He worked his mouth on your neck at the same pace that his fingers moved. The sting of his grip intensified as he pulled one leg around himself, what felt like a snake wrapped around your calf, not just to hold it in place, but caressing it. The hand held on your leg drifted to hold sure on your thighs. Fingers moving, his hips rocked to provide more pressure, though any more pressure, and you were sure you would blow. His kisses trailed back down, pausing to suck, fangs occasionally making an appearance. 

You watched as he worked, eyes fluttering. His eyes met yours. A wicked smile crept its way onto his face. From between the rows of glimmering fangs his tongue slithered out, something about it had changed, you were sure it had never been that long before. A jolt shot through you when the sweltering muscle pressed against one nipple. It was entrancing, the way it moved, and then a pit of fear and arousal deepened as it seamlessly began splitting in two, the fork appearing as if it had just been hidden. His pelvis left its place guiding the hand that stroked you from within as did the tail that had wrapped around your leg. The grin he had spread, practically splitting his face. He watched you as you watched him trail back down, the grotesque tongue flicking at your overheated skin. You could feel the forked tongue drag up from his pulsing fingers to trace around, teasing you. The tongue would form as a solid mass, push ever closer to where you needed him most, and at the last second split again. Again, and again, he continued the pattern, until you lifted your hips. When your ass left the stone beneath it, he slung one leg over his shoulder, you lifted the other to join the opposite shoulder. Leathery skin wrapped around your ankles and held them together behind his head, now you saw the tail that he had sprouted. From then, he let the two halves find a spot on either side, and let them reform, rolling the sensitive spot back and forth, his finger joined by another, stretching you out again.

It became all too much when his opposite hand began trailing up and down your torso. Claws like obsidian left soft trails in their wake, occasionally Papa paused to roll a nipple between his thumb and index, practically purring as you let him pull moans from you. You ground against his face, hands finding his horns as grips, the act of you grabbing them causing him to release another rumbling growl, his lips trembling against you only causing you to tighten your hold on him. 

The boiling in your core was pouring over, back arching and hips gyrating against him, eyes closed so tight you could see stars. The scent of the mossy earth hit harder as you snapped. Papas tongue and fingers didn’t relent until you had come all the way down. The same snarled grin greeted you as you looked to him, this time, it dripped. His hand withdrew, making you miss the sweet filling sensation. 

Lips dripping, he moved your legs from his shoulders and kissed you, hard. Tasting yourself on his lips was one thing, the way he pressed to you was another. Silk on sweat. His wings stretched out for a moment as his hand dipped behind you to sit you up. Sunset caught it, the sun all but lost to the horizon, orange hues washing the secluded getaway.

Lips met the air as Papa pulled away suddenly, his hands at the collar of his causable. Threads snapping filled the space, the echo distorted by the trees. The decorated garment lay degraded, the front split, two holes prominently graced the back from the hasty appearance of his wings. The glance you threw at the causable was pulled away as the sound of buttons popping off the alb. There stood Papa, or a demon who looked like him, alb wide open, leaning back in. Hungrily, he returned to kissing, his nearly bare form pushed against you. His hips moved forward to grind again, stopping after a moment, his hands wandering down under your ass. Nails digging in, his hips insisting, you wrapped your legs around his waist, his tail moved to secure them together again. Claws bared, you could feel as he let them tear the fabric that kept you from him. It fell haplessly to the ground. His cock was hard against you, without warning, the two of you were standing. His lips fell to your shoulder, fangs digging slightly, the bounce of his walk pushing and grinding his cock against you, the familiar thirst nagging at you again. 

He waded the two of you into the water carefully, discarding what remained of his alb on the sandy side along with his shoes, so seamlessly that you almost hadn’t noticed. The evergreens surrounding the pool curled into a canopy, moon now clearly visible above through the gap in the tree cover. When the water finally hit you, it was a pleasant relief from the blistering heat that had built between the two of you. Cool but not cold. Papa murmured as you both slipped deeper into the water. Whistling of the waterfall grew louder, its melody cutting the silence of the forest. Papas hands switched from supporting you to grabbing at you, feeling every inch he could as the water held you. Every shift drew the tip of his cock closer to your entrance, never quite making it in, yet he rutted, determined to feel as much of you at once as he could. You wiggled slightly, trying to guide him, but his tails grip on your legs, binding them, left little leverage. 

Though it didn’t quite enter, it did brush lavishly against you, rubbing overstimulated skin, now cooled by the water, in ways that made you ache for more. Your hands shifted from around his neck to one back in his hair, the other under one of his arms, nails digging into him as his claws skimmed your skin. 

The water was at your shoulders, surface rippling to meet you. The water soothed the patches left raw by Papas mouth, a sigh mingling with moans. Then, you felt it. Papas hard cock had found the entrance. Even in the water, you could feel how drenched with pre-cum he was. His cock pressed deliberately up, his hands stopping their exploration to guide you down onto himself. You could feel his pulse through his cockhead, rapid rhythmic throbbing against you. 

As he massaged the tip into you, the same low growl rolled off his tongue, his eyes shutting and eyebrows pulling together. 

“Papa…” you trailed as he started to push deeper.

He only growled again in response, focused on the task at hand. Trembling in the water, he held you tight, pushing deeper and deeper, until he had no more to give. His clawed hands found a place on your hips as he rolled his own to get friction building once again. The ripples around you became more pronounced the more you bounced. It was as if 

Papa, even in this state, slipped further away as he continued. Snarling and groaning left him as if he were a beast. You noticed the smooth skin under the hand on his back seemed to sprout more hair, and if not more, thicker hair. He had taken his demon form before for you, but it hadn’t been like this. 

His thrusts graduated from bouncing to pulsating, you felt the waters ripples turn almost to waves, parts of your chest exposed to the now cool air. Papa was flapping his wings, and even in the resistance of the water, you began to rise. 

Water dripped off of you, the wind he generated helping it on its way. With each beat of his wings, a powerful thrust. The sky was black, black except for the red moon above you. 

Looking down you could see not only the hips that thrust into you then withdrew, not only the shadow of your demonic coupling, but the water, bathed itself in the read light, like a lake of blood. 

The restraint holding your legs together released and so did his grip. The wind rushed at your face as you screamed, just to feel the abominable heat on your back, looking down to see you were gliding just above the lake. 

He set you down on the grass just past the sand, you steadied yourself on your hands and knees. About to stand back up, you felt his cock press back into you. You gripped for your sanity and something to steady you. Your fist found the grass, earth again filling your nose as Papa filled you. His hands held your hips, claws becoming more apparent as they dug in, now you were sure that if they hadn’t drawn blood, they would if this kept up. The gusts of wind re-appeared, thrusts powered by his enormous wings. You turned your head back to look at him, his chest puffed out as he met your eyes, his thrusts hastened, he dipped down, draping your body, a hand snaking around you and between your thighs. 

“Mine” Papa growled, voice guttural, hot breath hitting your face. 

The pinnacle drew closer, you could tell he was on the same path. 

“Papa, please…fuck…Papa” you choked out. 

His fangs bit down on your shoulder from behind. If he hadn’t claimed you before, he had now. The hair that had appeared on his legs now brushed against your thighs as he made harsh rapid movements. He became more and more vocal, holding you close, hand toying with you as he fucked you. Then you felt him tighten up, as you felt yourself tighten up around him. He bellowed in his release, reveled in the feeling, not relenting his movements until he finished pulsing. The raged breath that brushed your face smelled of you.


	3. Chapter 3

It felt near impossible to move, but, he rolled the two of you onto your sides, spooning, massive wings wrapping around you, all without removing himself. His arms kept you close, both of your chests moving wildly, trying to regain some breath. Papa pressed kisses to the spot he had bitten you, whispering “mine” between them. The cool grass beneath you tickled slightly. The blood red moon still illuminated the space, even with the wing shielding you, the light was a reminder the outside world existed. 

However, the outside world didn’t want to wait on you. Twigs began breaking at the edge of your escape. Voices broke the symphony of the waterfall and the breeze through the trees. A storm lantern interrupted the moonbeams on their path. 

“Hey! I think I found them!” a voice rang out. 

Papa perked up at the intruder’s voice. 

“You okay? Did Papa hurt you?” The voice came again. Papa pulled you closer, a hand still between your legs, the other on your chest, as his wing pulled back. He shifted so you were chest down as he lay over top of you. 

Your head still swimming, you just watched as the figure emerged from the forest, then more shadowy figures after it. It wasn’t long before the posse was before you. Ghouls, sisters, then emerged Sister Imperator. In her arms she held a bundle of what looked like plain clothes. 

You felt the heat leave your back slightly as he re-positioned himself, hovering, hands and feet holding his hunched form. A low rumble started in his chest. 

“Hey! Get away from them! You’re sick!” one of the sisters called.

Papa leaned further on his back legs, tail swishing as he examined everyone. His eyes darted back and forth, the group, you, the group again. His pointed ears pushed back as his face started to contort. His top lip quivered over his fangs, showing them to those who had interrupted his peace. 

Sister Imperator was the only one who didn’t flinch when his growling became louder, loud enough for them to hear. 

“Papa, you’re behaving badly.” She said curtly. “Are you alright over there?” She spoke again, tone changing, you guessed she was addressing you. 

“Y-yeah” you croaked, unaware of how dry your throat had become. “I’m alright.”

A few of the group moved closer, Papas tail whipped dangerously fast behind him. His forked tongue flicked out of his mouth.

“Good. Would you like us to take you back?” 

With those words, Papa began to draw back, still hunched, but only on his legs. 

“No, no, I’m fine.” You managed back. “What did they mean, that Papa is sick?”

“A simple infection, it will pass, most likely by tomorrow. He will be in a…state…for the duration. If you need to subdue him at all, it is my experience with demons, to use their horns against them.” Sister bent slowly, setting the bundle on the ground. She motioned at the group, two ghouls appearing with other bundles. “Some food, water, and fresh clothing. I figured something along these lines may have been the case.”

You became painfully aware of what the current lines were, and how nothing but a shadow from the monster above you hid them.

“Thank you.” You replied, Sister nodded. 

One of the ghouls inched closer, as if trying to get a full view of Papa. Unfortunately, Papa saw it as a challenge. He reared up to his full height, body hair prickling. It was as if his eyes were glowing again, the moonlight casting a ghastly red onto the black of his claws. His wings unfolded in a flash, the thunder of his voice boomed, a roar shaking you. The ghoul fled, the others followed as Sister turned and walked away. 

Above you he still stood, letting out a roar of victory, his defense a success. It was entrancing, how his wings shone in the moonlight. After surveying the tree line one last time, assuring everyone had left, he was back on all fours. His wings stayed spread open as he looked into your eyes. His lips crashed against yours, one of his legs spreading yours. It was extremely apparent whatever he had had increased his vitality, his member already growing erect again. 

A clawed hand rest beside your head, keeping him upright, the other went to your thigh, rubbing it and coaxing it around his hip. You hadn’t realized how much the water had cooled him until his heat picked up again. Slowly, he warmed further, the most apparent being the cock head that kept brushing against you. 

His tongue was hot too, growing warmer, your tongue inspected his fangs, then his forked tongue danced along your tongue, and you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth for a moment, just to nip at it. A rumble of satisfaction shook him as he pressed his crotch harder to you. You did it again, the same effect. 

A smile crept onto your face, you moved the leg that wasn’t around him so that your knee pressed his chest away from you. He looked almost betrayed as he sat back on his heels, fingers splayed, hand hardly supporting himself anymore. The leg you pushed him away with moved, draping itself over his arm at the knee, opening yourself up for him. He examined the sight before him for a moment before his fangs appeared from behind his lips. He wasted no time lining himself back up and pressing in. Angled as you were, it was easy for his cock to brush the sweet spot inside you. Neither of you could keep quiet as you moved. With the leg around his hip, it was easy to guide him to hit home. 

Your mouth found his neck, one hand on the opposite side, cradling his throat, the other on his back, clawing at him as he moved. His strokes, unlike the short quick ones before, now were long and smooth. You couldn’t believe how wet you were, the waterfall not the only dripping sound in the clearing. 

Kissing a trail along his neck, you found a sweet spot. You sucked along it as you fucked onto him, bodies moving in harmony. Every noise that escaped him just spurred you on. 

You let the hand on his back really dig in, sliding down, down, and grabbing at his ass, pulling him deeper. He smelled of sex, of the fresh water, and of desire. His skin was soft and salty against your tongue. His grip on your leg tightened, his belly pressed against you as he pressed down harder, the thin hairs dragging delectably, like a feather on a blindfolded partner. With your mouth moving down towards his shoulder, you could see his ass bouncing, hips rolling as he pushed and pulled. His pace began to quicken, an idea struck you. 

You pulled your face from his shoulder, moving it instead to the hand near your head. Your mouth lolled open, taking a digit into it. He pressed in to the hilt, holding it as your tongue flicked at him, the claw wondrously cold compared to the rest of him. 

He quickly moved his hips again, feverishly. Your hands both ventured up and down his back, tracing where the wings sprouted from his back, then raking, then returning to his ass to push and pull him. You spat the digit out, mouth adventuring to the fresh side of his neck. 

You both moved wildly, release drawing nearer, as you felt yourself slipping over the edge, you bit down on his shoulder, the way he had done to you. He roared and moved faster yet, heightening the climax you were lost in. 

He continued to move, getting sloppy, tail winding back around your leg, squeezing, releasing, just to squeeze again. Even after the climax his cock was rapture as it stroked. You felt him spasm inside you again, moans and grunts mangling together. His wings flapped madly. 

The breeze was refreshing, then his overheated form slowly pressed down against you. He was like a blanket, wings outstretched. You wiggled slightly to bring your hands up. He made a noise of dissatisfaction before settling again. 

Curiosity overcame you, your hands gliding up to stroke the base of one set of his horns. He relaxed fully, kissed you gently, and began to purr. Sleep pulled at your eyelids. The air was fresh, the moon shone down on you, and the putting demon laying on you drifted off just a moment before you.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride, may all your demon pope fucking fantasies be realized.


End file.
